Indecently Immersive
Indecently Immersive: An Analysis of Cohesive Directing Techniques in Broadway’s Indecent, Directed by Rebecca Taichmann
“How do we as artists question our sins in front of a greater audience?” Who are we to judge or be judged? As we are all flawed and complex human beings floating through dust on the edge of abyss, how do we show meaning out of chance and anarchy? Rebecca Taichmann gives a masterclass in staging and intent, and exhibits a breathtaking cohesiveness through her interpretation of Paula Vogel’s Indecent. Taichmann’s directing techniques illustrate the complexity of the human spirit in response to the fires of a vengeful and indifferent God.
In reading the play’s forward, we learn that their collaboration was more than cohesive, it was more like a coloring book- where Vogel gave all of the linework and Taichmann gave the illustration color and hue and shading. “She staged my intention with more life than I could ever dictate through stage directions alone.” Something I particularly thought interesting was the idea of the shaking of the dust at the start of the play, with the rain washing all of the dust away at the end. It’s mentioned in the forward that it was Taichmann’s idea to use dust as a staging technique to demonstrate a dead troupe rising from the ashes, and I particularly loved the broadway staging’s dancing in the dust. We are made from dust and ashes (brilliantly said in Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1912). Dust is no one thing- it’s constantly shifting, it’s never the same, and it’s made up of so many different elements and particulates. And growing up Catholic I was always told that ‘to dust we shall return’. As a Jewish person, I’m sure that this particular usage of dust carries even more meaning, especially when we get to the play and find the troupe in an attic, with the text declaring that the troupe has returned to ashes (Ashes to Ashes: The Troupe Returns to Dust), and an older Asch declaring solemnly that “six million have left the theater.” There’s no rhyme or reason to dust. We can’t predict which way the wind will blow. But it’s beautiful and poetic in the way that Taichmann has imagined rising from the dust as a dance of joyous defiance and will to live, a demonstration of the human spirit to carry on and dance despite being made up of the ashes of six million people.
Every single one of the six actors (excluding Lemml, because he is more of a stage manager than anything- he is the through line that holds the entire play together like glue) knew EXACTLY their part in this extended dance throughout the play, and their slight variations were made even more seamless because everyone’s parts were so clear. I think that it was ingenious to use only six actors- two ingenues, two ‘middles’, and two elders. We know where each actor is at in their stage of life and how that relates to the character they are playing in each scene, which is a practice that I believe traces all the way back to commedia and stock characters. The troupe makes sense in every scene because Taichmann takes the extra steps in the coloring book to help the audience understand what it already knows- the stereotypes of the young writers, the young lovers, the grumpy old men, matronly old women, and stuck middle men.
Watching this play roughly three times made me wish that I knew more about Jewish tradition, dance, and music, so that I could gain a deeper understanding of the haunting beauty that is inherently laid in the minor chords most Jewish music is made up of, or the joyous rage in Jewish dance. That translation as a non-Jewish person was often lost upon me, and I wish that I knew more, even though it would be a crime to stop and explain the meaning of every note and line and lyric. A lot of this play relies heavily on the theme of translation- translation of theme/meaning, losing translation of self, translation of the horrors of humankind to those who will never be able to fully comprehend the enormity of death, etc. Taichmann’s emotional translations, however, are seamless. Although it is indicated in the text of the play that any time a character speaks in their native tongue, they speak in perfect English, and that when they speak anything but, they speak with an accent, Taichmann’s direction of the actors speaking abilities is so flawless that there isn’t a missed beat or moment of language in the entire play. Nothing is lost in translation to the audience. I compared it in class to watching/reading/comprehending Shakespeare’s works, and how reading his plays are almost like reading another language, making them disliked and hard to understand to those who fail to fully comprehend them. It takes a good actor and an even better director to make an audience understand every word and intention of Shakespeare, and if Taichmann ever directs a Shakespeare production you can bet I’ll want to be in that audience. Her work in Indecent sang to the horror and beauty we as humans face in the eyes of god and ourselves. I understood every note. I cried all three times I watched the rain scene at the close of the play.
Therefore, the color that Rebecca Taichmann brings to the linework of Paula Vogel’s Indecent conjures beauty and intense emotion using dance, music, translation, and staging. Her ‘color’ as a director shows the clarity of reality translated from a raw block of human existence in the face of its maker, and breathtakingly illustrates its complexity.
